


Bounty

by Pyp (Scoundrel)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Humor, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scoundrel/pseuds/Pyp
Summary: Wanted: Dead or Alive -- A bounty on your head can be a dangerous thing. You never know who might want to collect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: [YourFavoriteScoundrel](http://yourfavoritescoundrel.tumblr.com/)  
> Title Art thanks to: [Noiryn](http://noiryn.tumblr.com/)  
> Just a quick one shot after a convo with a friend about certain "Wanted" posters in the game.  
> New to AO3... Appreciate any feedback and thanks for the read!

 

* * *

 

Somewhere along the line, the bounty hunter had become the bounty.  

The Junkers weren’t supposed to have gotten the drop on him and Jesse McCree wasn’t sure if his discomfort at the situation came from the haphazard binds securing him to an overly stiff chair, or the shame at being captured by two idiot psychopaths in the first place.

He’d tested the strength of the rope that had been pulled recklessly tight across his torso-- _those would definitely leave a mark_ \--as well as the ones keeping his wrists bound behind the chair, and found himself unable to move; helpless to do anything but sit and endure the torture known as the Junkers’ company.

At least they’d had the decency to leave him with a cigar, but the rest--

“LOOK-- I’M MCCREE!! HOWDY HOWDY HOWDY!”

Roadhog’s deep voice was breathy, chopped, and unsettling through the filters of his leather mask, but the cowboy hat bouncing on his head as he whipped back and forth undermined any menace and McCree stewed in barely suppressed anger.

Mistreat a man, _fine_ \-- Mistreat a man’s _hat_ … Well, there were certain lines you just didn’t cross.  

The manic cackling coming from the smaller of the Junker pair did nothing to help the cowboy’s strained nerves either. Junkrat’s high-pitched giggles and incessant bouncing from side to side bordered on insanity which--McCree needed no reminder--was actually the case.

“ _Allrightallright_!” the twitchy blond suddenly burst forward, unable to contain himself and jumping wildly and down to try and snatch the hat off of Roadhog’s head. “My turn!  My turn!  My _turn_!”

Roadhog pulled effortlessly away, his girth as much a barrier to Junkrat’s chaotic swipes as his height was, and gave a low chuckle.

“Looks better on me,” he rumbled, causing a more frenzied--but equally futile--round of leaps and whines from Junkrat that finally pushed McCree to the edge of his tolerance.

“No--” McCree interrupted through grit teeth, an eyebrow twitching once Junkrat started to physically climb up the other man. “--It looks better on _me_.”

The two froze and turned from their minor quarrel as a reunited team to stare; almost as though they’d forgotten they had an audience.

“... _What_?” Roadhog asked; less a question than it was a warning to keep quiet.

McCree didn’t follow.

“C’mon boys-- You’ve had yer fun,” he tried to reason. “Give it back now.”

“Well wouldja look at that!!” Junkrat’s gaze honed-in immediately on something, his attention focused enough to climb down off Roadhog’s stomach and point with a gasp. “ _Look_!!”

“Ah hell.” Jesse immediately regretted drawing attention to himself. He knew exactly what Junkrat had spotted and scowled as the man’s scrawny shoulders squared off in his direction.

“Ooooh, ‘ _have some decency_ ,’ he says!” Junkrat began to advance; a spark in his eyes burning as furiously as the flames he was so fond of. “ _Give us a light_ ,’ he says! And do you _see_ what he’s gone and done with all our hospitality, Roadhog?”

Roadhog stood silently by, which McCree understood to be a very bad sign.

“All right, now look--” he attempted to shift, an increasingly sheepish smirk growing on his face the closer Junkrat came. “Don’t be hasty…”

Junkrat ignored him, grabbing the back of the chair and shoving it back onto two legs with a surprising amount of strength, to point at the cigar embers smouldering into McCree’s ropes.

“He’s tryin’ to _escape_!!” he howled, apparently devastated by the betrayal. “Can you believe this, Hoggy?!  I mean-- you try an’ you try, t’be a nice guy, and where does it get ya?!”

Roadhog gave a derisive snort and Junkrat threw his hands into the air with a heavy, defeated sigh, letting the chair--and cowboy--drop away from his grip and onto the ground. McCree grunted as he rattled against the concrete floor, ending on his good arm no less, and grimaced further when the Australian crouched down beside him.

“There we are! No harm done!” Junkrat broke into a cheerful smile, all sharp teeth and insanity again, but his expression was directed towards the ropes rather than McCree. The drop had knocked the embers aside, but he reached to flick away the remaining ash with chipped black fingernails before snatching the offending cigar out from the cowboy’s lips. “An’ I’ll take _that_ , thank you-- Smoking’s bad for you anyway, you know.”

Jesse’s eyes drifted from his awkward position on the floor to the trails of smoke that seemed to cloud around the tips of Junkrat’s hair, but kept the deadpan retorts to himself.

Junkrat didn’t care anyway, already turning and straightening off the ground to jam the cigar into his own mouth and strike a smug pose with his brand new claim for Roadhog to see.

“All right-- How do I look?!”

“Hat’s better.”

“Well then give it here! It’s still my turn!”

“No.”

“Oh, _c’mon_!”

McCree sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Next time he decided to go after a bounty on someone’s head… he’d make _damn_ sure they didn’t know about the one on his.


End file.
